Free Web NovelMatt opened his eyes slowly, and the first thing he saw was a ceiling decorated with black moldings and silver details that glimmered under the soft light of a nearby lamp.
Matt blinked. Then he frowned.
'I'm not dead.'
That was the first thing.
The second was that he wasn't in a cell.
Matt tried to sit up, but his body took a second to respond. His arms felt heavy, his muscles worn out, and his throat…
His throat.
Matt brought a hand to his neck immediately, and his fingers touched skin.
Nothing.
Not even a mark.
Matt stayed still for a few seconds, pressing the spot where the queen's drop of blood had gone through him.
'It healed.'
Of course it healed. His regeneration worked like that. One of those things he couldn't completely hate because it had saved his life too many times.
But that didn't change the fact that the queen had knocked him out like she was switching off an annoying daughter.
Matt clenched his jaw.
'Damn old woman,' he thought as he slowly sat up on the bed.
Then Matt noticed something else.
He was no longer wearing the uniform.
Matt looked down.
Instead of the black shirt with white trim, the apron, the lace, the ridiculous ribbon, and all that other evidence of career-level humiliation, he now wore simple clothes.
Black pants and a plain, comfortable black shirt. Boy's clothes.
Matt stared at them for a few seconds. Then he breathed a little easier.
'Alright.'
At least someone in this castle had a minimum of common sense.
Matt ran a hand over the fabric of the shirt.
It was soft.
Too soft for ordinary clothes.
It was probably outrageously expensive. That annoyed him a little, but not nearly as much as the previous uniform. So he decided to let it go.
Matt looked around and noticed the room was absurdly enormous.
A large bed, dark furniture, heavy curtains, red rugs, a desk near a wide window, and an unlit fireplace against one wall.
Everything was spacious, elegant, and cold. The kind of room that said: someone important lives here.
Matt hated that the person was probably him.
Or worse.
The version of him that this place kept insisting on remembering.
'Don't overthink it…' Matt scolded himself.
Matt moved his legs out from under the sheets to get up.
Then he felt something.
A weight, but not on him.
Beside him.
Matt slowly lowered his gaze toward the bed. There was a shape under the covers.
Matt went still.
For a second, he didn't want to pull anything back — but in the end he grabbed the edge of the sheet and lifted it slightly.
It was Iris.
Of course.
The vampire princess was asleep beside him, curled up comfortably, wearing white soft-fabric pajamas with her white hair spread across the pillow.
One of her hands rested near her face. Her breathing was calm, her expression relaxed.
Iris slept like she hadn't kidnapped anyone, like she hadn't bothered him the entire journey, or like she wasn't part of the reason Matt was back in that castle again.
Matt watched her in silence. Then he looked at the rest of the bed.
It was enormous.
There was enough space for five people to sleep without touching each other.
And yet Iris was close.
Too close.
Matt felt a vein throbbing in his forehead.
'Why.'
He didn't wake her.
He didn't push her.
He didn't throw her off the bed.
Even though he thought about it.
But he was tired.
Too tired to start a fight before he even knew what time it was.
So Matt just pulled the sheet back over her, slowly, like he was covering a problem he'd rather deal with later.
"I hate you," Matt muttered, but Iris didn't respond. She stayed asleep.
Matt got out of bed carefully and walked toward the large mirror beside the wardrobe.
But the moment he saw his reflection, he stopped, his mouth falling slightly open.
For a second, he didn't breathe.
Not because of a wound.
No.
It was his hair.
White.
Completely white.
Matt stared at his reflection.
The black shirt made the color stand out even more.
His hair fell across his forehead in that pale, luminous, almost silver tone that didn't belong to him.
Matt slowly raised a hand and took a strand between his fingers.
White.
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Not a trace of dye.
Not a single black streak.
The dye he'd used for months to look normal, to look like before, to recognize himself a little when he looked in the mirror…
They'd taken it from him.
Matt said nothing.
Not at first.
He just kept staring.
His face was his.
His body was his.
But that hair…
That damned hair was a reminder that he now belonged to the queen's family.
Matt gripped the strand between his fingers.
His hand began to tremble.
Not from fear.
From rage.
'Seriously?'
The question floated in his head.
Seriously, they'd done that?
Seriously, the queen was going to go that far again?
It wasn't enough to bring him back.
It wasn't enough to threaten his family.
It wasn't enough to knock him unconscious.
She also had to take that from him.
Matt let go of the strand.
His expression went flat.
Too flat.
Then he walked toward the door.
He didn't look at Iris.
He didn't look at the room.
He didn't care how luxurious it was.
He didn't care about the bed.
He didn't care about any of it.
He just opened the door.
*Click!*
And walked out.
◇◆◇
The hallway was silent.
Too clean.
Too elegant.
Matt walked with steady steps, gaze straight ahead, fists clenched. freewёbnoνel.com
He knew where to go.
That bothered him too.
His body remembered the path to the throne room.
As if that place had left marks inside him that no amount of time or distance could erase.
'I'm going to kill her.'
The thought appeared, clear.
Simple.
Straightforward.
Matt held onto it for several seconds.
Then his reasonable side — that annoying part of him that kept functioning even when he was furious — answered:
'You can't.'
Matt ground his teeth.
Not now.
Not without his weapon.
Not while he was exhausted.
Not against her.
The queen was stronger.
Much stronger than him, faster, with sharper reflexes.
And the worst part was that Matt had never even seen her fight seriously.
He'd never seen her use her ego weapon.
Matt felt the sensation in his throat again.
The roots inside his neck. His hand rose instinctively to the healed spot.
'Damn it.'
He had to calm down.
At least enough not to die by being stupid.
Matt kept walking, and then a maid appeared from a side hallway, pushing a wheeled cart.
The smell hit him first.
Food.
Real food.
Matt stopped on instinct.
On the cart sat dishes covered with silver lids, sliced fruit, warm bread, roasted meat, a jug of cold water, and several small desserts arranged with an irritating precision.
There was also a chocolate cake.
Matt saw it and his stomach growled loudly. The maid immediately lowered her head.
"Princess Matt," she said softly. "The queen ordered that food be brought to you as soon as you woke up."
Matt looked at the cart.
Then at the maid.
Then at the food again.
His body wanted to eat.
His soul did too.
His pride, unfortunately, was still alive.
Matt didn't answer.
He just walked past.
The maid raised her head, surprised.
"Princess, wait. There are several dishes the queen said were your favorites."
Matt stopped for a second.
His eyebrow twitched.
Right.
Of course the queen remembered his favorite dishes.
Of course she'd use food.
Of course she'd do it right when he was furious, hungry, and with his hair white again.
Matt didn't turn around.
"Set them aside."
The maid hesitated.
"But…"
Matt kept walking.
The maid was left behind with the cart. freēwēbηovel.c૦m
And the cake.
Matt tried not to think about the cake.
He failed.
'First I confront her.'
His stomach growled again.
Matt gritted his teeth.
'Then I eat.'
◇◆◇
The doors of the throne room appeared at the end of the hallway.
The same black doors.
The same dark red metal.
The same two guards standing in front of them.
Both were vampire women in elegant armor with long swords at their hips.
When they saw him approaching, they tensed.
"Princess Matt."
Matt didn't answer.
He kept walking.
One of the guards stepped forward.
"The queen is currently busy attending to some guests."
Matt kept walking.
The other guard slowly lowered her hand toward her sword.
"Princess, you cannot enter right now."
Matt stopped in front of them. Slowly, he raised his gaze.
The guards went still.
Matt didn't smile.
He didn't raise his voice.
He didn't need to.
"Move."
The first guard swallowed.
"We have orders not to allow interruptions."
Matt looked at her. Then at the other one. Then spoke again in the same dry tone.
"If you try to stop me, I will make sure that you and every one of your family members are executed for treason."
Silence fell.
Both guards stood frozen.
Matt took another step forward.
"Because that is exactly what you'll be doing."
His voice didn't change. It didn't grow louder.
That made it worse.
"Standing in the way of a princess of royal blood."
The guards paled slightly.
Matt felt sick using that word.
Princess.
But it worked.
That made him feel even sicker.
The guard who had her hand near her sword slowly pulled it away.
The other bowed her head.
"My apologies… Princess."
Matt walked between them.
He said nothing.
He just placed both hands on the doors and pushed.
*Grrrk!*
The heavy sound of wood and metal echoed through the entire hallway.
Matt stepped inside.
◇◆◇
The throne room was not empty.
The queen sat on her throne, just as before.
Elegant.
Calm.
Untouchable.
But this time she was not alone.
Standing before her were five women.
Not vampires.
That was the first thing Matt noticed.
Their hair was green, in different shades — from a dark tone like wet leaves to a light one like grass under sunlight.
They had pointed ears.
Sharp features.
Long garments in natural colors with gold and silver embroidery.
Elves.
Matt looked at them.
They looked back.
For a second, no one spoke.
The elves looked confused — some of them, impressed. And in a few, slightly offended by the interruption.
One of them widened her eyes at the sight of Matt's white hair.
Another let her gaze drop to his boy's clothes.
Another looked at the queen, as if waiting for an explanation.
Matt didn't pay them much attention.
His eyes went straight to the queen.
The queen, of course, smiled.
"Matt," she said in a warm voice. "I didn't expect you to come see me so quickly."
Matt didn't answer.
The queen tilted her head slightly.
"Especially while I'm attending to guests."
Matt felt a pressure in his chest.
Part of him wanted to lunge at her.
To close the distance.
To break the throne.
To wipe that smile off her face.
But his reasonable side spoke up again.
'You can't beat her.'
Matt breathed.
Once.
Slowly.
Then again.
His fingers closed and opened.
Not now.
Not like this.
Not without his ego weapon.
The queen watched him with an irritating calm, as though she could read exactly what he was thinking.
Matt raised his chin.
"Where is my ego weapon?"
The queen blinked.
So did the elves.
Matt kept speaking, his voice dry.
"You're the queen, aren't you? The absolute ruler of this place. The great authority of blood. The owner of this horrible castle."
The queen smiled a little more.
Matt clenched his jaw.
"I'd assume you'd be capable of knowing that."
The room went quiet. The queen looked at him for a few seconds. Then she brought a hand to her cheek with an expression of surprise.
"My."
Matt narrowed his eyes.
"What?"
"It's been a long time since you last flattered me."
Matt went still.
"That wasn't a compliment."
"I'll take it as one."
"Don't."
The queen let out a soft laugh.
The elves exchanged glances.
One of them, the youngest, looked like she didn't understand any of this whatsoever.
The queen rested her chin on her hand.
"Just because you've called me absolute ruler after so long, I won't punish you this time for interrupting a formal meeting."
Matt stared at her with contempt.
"How generous."
"I am."
"No."
The queen smiled.
"But don't do it again. I won't have my daughters being rude in front of guests."
The five elves went rigid.
One of them barely opened her mouth.
Another looked Matt up and down with complete bewilderment.
A third lowered her voice, but not nearly enough.
"Daughter?"
Matt closed his eyes.
Another elf whispered:
"That man?"
The elves knew what vampires were like.
That much was obvious.
Even if they didn't get along with them, even if their cultures were different, even if they were there as guests or emissaries — they knew the basics at least.
Men in vampire society didn't hold that kind of place.
Matt felt their gazes on him.
'Great. New audience.'
The elf who appeared to be leading the delegation cleared her throat softly.
She was a tall woman with dark green hair pinned up with golden clasps. Her expression was far more composed than her companions'.
"Discretion," she said in a low voice.
The others immediately lowered their eyes.
Or tried to.
One kept looking at Matt from the corner of her eye.
Matt decided to ignore them.
It was either that or start another diplomatic threat before breakfast.
The queen, on the other hand, seemed entertained.
Far too entertained.
"Eleonora is usually in the west wing of the castle at this hour," she said at last.
Matt looked up.
"West wing?"
"In the private training halls. Though depending on her mood, she might also be on the upper terrace."
Matt frowned.
"That's not a precise answer."
"It's the one I have."
"You're the absolute ruler of this place."
The queen smiled.
"Thank you for saying it again."
Matt ground his teeth and stared at her for a few more seconds.
He wanted to ask about his hair.
But he didn't.
Not in front of the elves.
Not with the queen smiling like that.
Not when she probably wanted him to explode.
So Matt turned around and walked toward the exit.
One of the elves took a small step to the side as he passed by, as though she wasn't sure whether to bow or get out of the way for safety.
Matt didn't look at her.
He just walked out.
The doors fell shut behind him.
…
Silence settled inside the room for a few seconds.
The elves didn't speak. The queen kept looking at the closed doors with a soft smile.
Finally, the leader of the delegation inclined her head carefully.
"Your Majesty…"
The queen turned her gaze toward her.
"Yes?"
The elf hesitated.
It was clear she had many questions.
Too many.
But it was equally clear that she valued her life.
"Your… daughter seems to have a strong character."
The queen let out a small laugh.
"That's true."
Another elf looked down, still puzzled.
The queen rested her chin on her hand, amused.
"But don't worry. Matt has always been like that."
The elves fell silent. The queen looked once more toward the door.
Her smile grew a little deeper.
"I still have many things to correct in him."
